Storm Damage
by kate98
Summary: Set immediately following The Storm and The Eye - Elizabeth, John, and Rodney deal with their damage.


_Characters: Sheppard/Weir/McKay  
Pairings: Only if you squint.  
Setting: Immediately following The Eye.  
Word Count: 5,055  
A/N: I actually started this a week or two after The Eye, and it's been languishing for quite some time. I think I checked canonicity pretty thoroughly here. The only thing I'm not sure of is whether Elizabeth's quarters have ever been shown, and if so, if they have windows. If not, forgive the license!_

* * *

**Storm Damage**

They stood together watching the hustle and bustle below the control room for some time, trying to appear normal. Rodney and John mocked one another and everyone else mercilessly, and Elizabeth went through the motions of pretending to chide them. Their hearts weren't in it. Eventually, even the façade petered out and they remained in awkward silence. Elizabeth, always cognizant of her need to show a leader's strength, made the break first with a simple, "Goodnight, gentlemen, and thank you."

"Goodnight, Dr. Weir," they both echoed. Rodney and John stayed a few minutes longer, a bit more willing to show the strain to one another than they were to Elizabeth.

John found the courage first. "Hell of a day, huh?"

Rodney snorted. "Hell is jealous of days this bad." Silence. "You saved the city."

John looked at him in disbelief. "_You_ saved the city."

"Fine, okay. You saved me and I saved the city."

"Good work, Doctor."

"Good work, Major."

John found the courage first. "Well, I guess I'll turn in. You?"

"I think I'll go get a midnight snack first." As soon as the storm had passed and the corridors were safe again, Rodney had headed for the mess hall. But he thought there might be other people there now. It seemed like his best chance of delaying the inevitable just a bit longer. "Good night, Major."

* * *

John made for his quarters. He was exhausted – physically and mentally, in any case. His feelings wouldn't quiet. He couldn't remember ever feeling so disturbed. _A storm of emotion_, he thought sardonically. He'd been in life-or-death situations before. He'd killed before. Why was this affecting him so powerfully? Why was he suddenly afraid? 

He reached his darkened room and collapsed into a chair. He supposed the better question was, of _what_ was he afraid? It wasn't the enemy. It wasn't death. To be honest, the fear was of himself. Yes, he'd killed before, but like most soldiers, his combined motives had been duty and self-preservation. He'd never killed in passion. Until today.

It had been enough that they had invaded _his_ city (and he felt that it was uniquely his – he had the gene to prove it), but the Genii had done more than that. They had pushed him, provoked him. He believed Elizabeth was dead. That was what snapped him – the thought that Elizabeth lay dead, and that Rodney would meet the same fate when he was no longer useful. They were civilians, innocents. And they were… more.

Rodney was brilliant, but that in itself meant nothing to John. What mattered was that, as arrogant, pompous, and petty as he could be, Rodney was a compassionate, tolerant person at heart. Rodney believed – and John admitted he was probably right – that he was smarter than anyone else; but if you watched him closely enough, you began to see that he didn't believe that made him better than anyone else. John had expected condescension, and while Rodney made a show of it, he quietly taught, explained, and respected John's intelligence. He didn't treat John as though the complicated things of science were beyond his comprehension, just as though he was horribly behind in the learning curve. John had long since learned to use the fact that people underestimated his intelligence to strategic advantage, but it was nice for once to be accepted for what he was.

Elizabeth, on the other hand… John knew she underestimated his abilities, but he didn't mind. He was less threatening to her authority that way; it allowed him to be closer to her. Why that was important to him, he wasn't willing to examine. He was content to think of her as the woman he… respected. It didn't sound like much, but that wasn't something he could say about many women. He'd been a plaything to too many of them. In fact, he could count on one hand the number of women for whom he truly had respect: Elizabeth; his mother and grandmother; and Mrs. Jarlin, his calculus teacher from high school. Well, and Teyla, to a lesser degree. It wasn't the same, because he and Teyla were too similar. He saw his own flaws in her. He saw few, if any, flaws in Elizabeth. Being _too_ good, caring too much – he couldn't count those as flaws. And he'd thought they had taken her, for good.

Kolya had deftly located John's weak spot, but it had backfired on him. His ploy released something, a level of emotion deeper than John would dare to reach on his own. It fueled the cold fury that killed Kolya's men, one by one. John wished it would have led to the bastard's own death, but he took the safest shot he had to ensure that neither he nor Kolya hurt Elizabeth.

When Kolya said she was dead, John had believed. So convinced was he that when Kolya admitted Elizabeth was alive, he couldn't accept it until he heard her voice – her clear, strong voice – assuring him that she and Rodney were still safe. But it was too late. The belief had broken something inside him, something he wasn't sure could be fixed. And now, hell, he still had a hard time believing she was alive. He hadn't wanted her to leave; he needed her presence to reassure himself that she was still there, still whole.

In an instant, he was up and striding the halls. He had to see her.

John was shaken.

* * *

Elizabeth couldn't stop shaking. She crawled under the covers, curled up in a ball, and yet her body continued to tremble. She told herself she should feel lucky to be alive, but all she felt was vulnerable and frightened. She was a negotiator, a mediator, a diplomat; until now her idea of a tense standoff was two ambassadors who refused to back down during trade talks. The term took on a whole new meaning today. 

As the leader of the Atlantis expedition, Elizabeth had believed she was the person in power. But to Kolya, she meant nothing. She was a bartering tool, a trade token to get what he wanted. She felt so small – as though her life were a commodity, and one of little value, at that. John Sheppard was the one Kolya had to barter with, the force to be reckoned with in Atlantis. Never before had she witnessed exactly how much power John Sheppard had, or realized how much she depended on him.

On Earth, weapons of mass destruction had taken brute force out of the equation of leadership. When even the smallest of nations could blow the largest out of existence, who had the biggest army became relatively unimportant. The largest media machine, the greatest amount of public support, the most skilled negotiators – these were the things that swayed the balance of power. But here in Pegasus, none of that mattered – hell, none of that existed. John Sheppard was all that stood in the way of the capture and death of all the expedition members. Rodney McKay was all the stood in the way of the destruction of the city. Pegasus was a place where power came, not from position, but by skill and by force. Elizabeth just didn't fit.

But more than her sense of professional worth had been damaged. Elizabeth felt personally powerless for the first time in her life. Kolya was ruthless; nothing she could do or say could influence him. He had complete control over whether she lived or died, or worse. The way he looked at her… it made her skin crawl. When he tried to drag her through the gate, she silently begged for John to shoot. If he missed and shot her, it would have been better than what might have awaited her on the other side. Anything would have been better.

She was going to go out of her mind if she couldn't stop thinking about this, replaying each moment in her head. Elizabeth was grateful to John and to Rodney, but thinking about it just made her feel how close she'd been to dying. It made her feel alone.

She thought about Simon, then guiltily realized it was the first time she'd thought about him in months. She just… needed someone. She needed comfort; she needed something to remind her that she was still alive.

The door chimed. Elizabeth threw back the covers and practically jumped at it. Any human contact right now was more than welcome. She opened the door to John Sheppard.

* * *

"Major!" Elizabeth exclaimed. 

"Hi." John's quick glance took in her attire – shorts and a t-shirt – and the rumpled bed, but she didn't seem to have been sleeping. Maybe they were in the same boat. "Can I come in?"

Elizabeth looked at him hesitantly for a moment, but then stepped back and motioned him in. "Please."

John stepped in and Elizabeth returned to the bed, perching lightly on the edge. It was fitting – there was definitely something avian about her. The way she watched him with sharp, penetrating eyes and her voice, simultaneously deep and lilting – yes, she'd always reminded John of a quick, delicate bird.

"Major?"

Only when she spoke did he realize that he hadn't said a word for quite some time. "I, uh, couldn't sleep. You?"

Elizabeth looked at the floor. She hated to admit weakness, but what was the point in denying the obvious? "Me either."

John sighed and sank into a chair.

* * *

Rodney McKay shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was afraid, and he didn't like it one bit. He sat in the bright, empty cafeteria, picking over his second plate of comfort food and feeling like an idiot. Well, not an idiot, exactly – he was, after all, The Brain That Saved Atlantis. 

To be accurate, which Rodney always was if he was able, he was feeling embarrassed about how frightened he felt. He couldn't believe the terror and pain he'd experienced earlier was comparing favorably with this. When lives were on the line, his mind was racing, working on ways to get out of the situation. Now, when the danger had passed, there was nothing to do but experience the fear and loneliness that followed. He was afraid to walk the night-darkened hallways, afraid to return to the solitary confinement of his room.

The truth was, Rodney McKay was soft. He didn't much care to admit or examine the fact, but – here, tonight – it was glaringly obvious. He cared about people, more than a little. He became attached easily, and was easily hurt when his friendship or affections weren't returned. Rather than risk the rejection, he shut everyone out. Worse than shut them out, he pushed them away. He didn't want to receive any indication that people cared for him. It only got his hopes up. However, it seemed that someone had gotten through his defenses. A few someones, in fact.

It was this place. Unlike the scientific community on Earth, here there was no room for competition, no opportunities for prestige and promotion. There was only survival. In that way, it was entirely different than the life any of the scientists had known. They were slowly shedding the vestiges of academic competition – working more cooperatively, being less suspicious of one another. Rodney was the last one hanging on (with the possible exception of Cavanaugh, but he was just an ass), the last to let go of the old ways. He wanted to cling to his comfortable defenses, but already he'd begun to let his guard down.

He cared. Not just about his own survival, or this technological treasure trove of a city, but about the people – about the scientists, about Elizabeth, about his team. Today, all of that had been threatened, and he'd realized how much they had come to mean to him. Rodney was as frightened of the consequences of this realization as he had been of the Genii.

If he let them in, even just a little, he would start to hope that his friendship and loyalty would be reciprocated, and that was something you just couldn't count on. If he was completely honest with himself – and what was the point of being otherwise _now_? – he was hoping already. After what they had just been through together, how could he not?

Elizabeth… well, he'd liked Elizabeth from the beginning. She showed him more respect than he was used to, and seemed to really believe that he deserved it. He'd tried to earn what she gave him, but Rodney was no soldier. When the Genii took a knife to his arm, it didn't take a second to cut through his bravado and find the terrified geek underneath. Yet, she'd stood by him. He'd expected contempt and been met with sympathy. He didn't quite know what to make of that, but it seemed almost like friendship to him.

Friendship wasn't an area in which he had much expertise. But he'd done his best for her, standing up for her and supporting her, and Elizabeth had done the same for him. She'd given him courage; he couldn't believe the things he'd done. Without a thought in his head about what to say, he had found himself between Elizabeth and the business end of a gun, and he'd talked his way out of it. He'd lied, she'd stalled, he'd bluffed... He wasn't sure how they'd done it, but together, they managed to make it through until Major Sheppard could free them. They had known he would.

Rodney put more confidence in Sheppard than in anyone but himself. He'd done everything he could to buy time, with faith that if anyone could get them out of that mess, Sheppard could. He gambled on John's overdeveloped sense of responsibility for the city and the expedition members, and it paid off in the end.

Major Sheppard was something of a hero to Rodney, but not for the reasons anyone might expect. In Rodney's experience with military men, most felt the need to make a display of their authority and strength. He knew they felt threatened, but the knowledge made it no easier when they continually showed their disdain for science as opposed to force. But not John Sheppard.

Sheppard never belittled the scientists or their work. Rodney was wary at first, but not only did the Major accept him as part of the team, he treated Rodney just the same as he treated anyone else. He accepted people as they were, because he accepted himself as he was. John Sheppard was a man with nothing to prove. He didn't let insecurities rule him, and that was a state to which Rodney secretly aspired.

Rodney sighed. Standing, he stretched and went to empty his tray. The only way he was going to sleep was to feel safe, and the only way he was going to feel safe was to be around someone capable of ensuring that he was safe. He wondered what kind of excuse he could come up with between here and Sheppard's quarters to get him to keep him company.

* * *

"We'll have to have a meeting to discuss increased security measures on- and off-world," Elizabeth said, trying to slip into the comfortable formality of command. Her voice shook slightly and she hoped Sheppard didn't notice. He gave no indication that he had, but then, he gave no indication of anything else either. He simply stared, his expression direct but unreadable. Elizabeth gave up the pretense and let her eyes drop to her hands folded in her lap. 

"Don't stop talking." John's voice was soft and coaxing.

"I'm… I'm tired, Major."

He sat up slightly, as if poised to stand, but not eager to do so. "I guess I should leave."

"No," Elizabeth answered too quickly, too sharply. She continued more softly, "No, I didn't mean that. It's just… why did you come?"

John rapped his fingers on the chair's arm anxiously. "I just needed to see that you were okay."

Elizabeth's posture straightened automatically, her shoulders and jaw tensing slightly. "I'm fine, Major. As you said I would be. There's no need for you to..."

John interrupted, realizing his mistake. "No, you don't understand. **I** needed to see that you were okay." Elizabeth looked at him, eyebrow raised in that way that normally amused him. (Of course, normally he was busy trying to charm her into doing something his way when he saw that particular expression.) Now, he found it somehow saddening. He wanted her to understand. "I believed Kolya had killed you."

The tension left her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around herself unconsciously. "I believe he would have, if Rodney hadn't convinced him I was necessary."

"Remind me to thank Rodney," John said impulsively. If the relief he felt at the thought made him a bit rash, he refused to regret it, but he did try to de-personalize the thought. "I don't know what the expedition would do without you."

Turning away, Elizabeth replied as neutrally as she could manage, "I'm sure the expedition would go on just fine without me."

Her tone wasn't neutral enough for a man who made a point of studying the nuances of her behavior. He heard the self-doubt. "That's not true. This city wouldn't function without you."

"My negotiating skills didn't get us very far with the Genii," she said wryly.

"Your skills are what keep the members of this expedition working together and focused on the right things. This place would be chaos without you."

She was silent. John could tell she was thinking about what he'd said, and it pleased him. It was the truth. If this were solely a military operation, there wouldn't be much need for her skills within Atlantis itself. Orders would be given, and orders would be followed. But in addition to the military personnel, Atlantis was home to a host of civilians from different countries and backgrounds, not to mention the Athosians now on the mainland. Keeping everyone happy and working efficiently took the wisdom of Solomon.

Elizabeth sighed and rubbed her eyes. He made her feel better. It was silly just how much. It was more than what he said, though she believed he was sincere; just having him here made her feel calmer, more in control. However, the calmer she was, the more she felt the need for sleep. "Major," she said tentatively, "I know the chair can't be very comfortable, but…"

"You need sleep."

"Yes, and…"

"You'd like me to stay?"

Elizabeth looked nonplussed at the interruptions, but nodded her assent. She wanted him to stay.

* * *

Rodney fretted and paced in front of the door. Major Sheppard wasn't anywhere. He wasn't in his quarters, nor the medical center, the cafeteria, the control room, any of the balconies, the jumper bay, or even the labs. Rodney had stopped short of using Atlantis' scanners to find out whose quarters he might be in, and had almost – very nearly – decided to go see Dr. Weir instead. He now hovered indecisively outside her door. 

He tried hopelessly to think of an excuse for waking her. In the end, he decided this was the time to test his theory. If they really were friends, he wouldn't need an excuse. He would just tell her the truth – he didn't want to be alone right now. She would understand.

Elizabeth answered the door more quickly than he expected. He was unprepared for her to be awake. He panicked, his mind scrambling for an excuse once more. He seized on the first thing that came to mind. "Ah, Elizabeth, hi. I was, uh, looking for Major Sheppard. Have you seen him?"

Elizabeth looked at him quizzically. "He's here, Rodney."

Rodney was even more unprepared for her answer. "He's here? With you?" he stuttered in confusion. "At this time of night?"

"Rodney, come in." Elizabeth said with a sigh.

"No, no. I, umm, don't mean to intrude. I'll just…"

"Rodney," John's commanding voice interrupted from somewhere in the dark. "Come. Now."

Rodney stepped inside, eyes blinking to adjust to the dim light. Elizabeth walked past him and the door slid closed. He watched her move toward the empty bed. As his eyes adjusted, he found Major Sheppard sitting in a chair. He could just make out the look of exasperation on his face.

"I'm sorry, I was just…" Rodney was still running on empty when it came to explaining his presence, so he went on the offensive. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm keeping Dr. Weir company until she falls asleep," John explained with brittle patience.

"Oh."

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"I just came to check on Elizabeth."

"I thought you said you were looking for Major Sheppard," Elizabeth cut in.

Rodney turned to her defensively. "Well, I _was._ I just… I… I just didn't want to be alone," he blurted out.

Elizabeth gave a slight smile. "Me either."

"Oh, thank God." Rodney gushed in relief. He jumped at a loud scraping sound behind him.

Rodney turned to find Major Sheppard pushing a second chair with his foot. "Get comfortable," John said with resignation.

* * *

Elizabeth woke to a loud thud, followed by a string of whispered curses. 

"Damn it, Rodney. That was my foot."

"Yes, well that was my cranium connecting with it, and I'm fine, thank you very much. Perhaps you'd better just wake me every two hours to be sure I don't have a concussion."

"You seem to be doing a good job of waking us both every few minutes. Can't you just stay still, for Pete's sake?"

"I can't get comfortable in that chair."

"Well, since you're down there anyway, why don't you try sleeping on the floor?

"The floor?" Rodney sounded appalled.

"I thought the two of you were supposed to be _helping_ me sleep," Elizabeth murmured drowsily.

The room went silent for a minute and Elizabeth wondered if she was dreaming. Then she barely heard a whispered, "You woke her. No, _you_ woke her."

She sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. She heard a groan from the floor as Rodney covered his eyes against the light. John was slumped in a chair with his head tossed back and eyes closed, his jacket and shoes in a heap nearby. Rodney's head lay just below John's feet. "Come here," Elizabeth said, and almost laughed at how quickly two pairs of eyes focused on her. "A perfectly innocent offer, gentlemen. The bed is huge and there's plenty of room. If you're going to be here, I don't see why you should be uncomfortable."

"Dr. Weir, are you quite awake?" Rodney asked speculatively.

"Yes, Dr. McKay, quite awake, I assure you. I'm serious. This is silly, come on."

In one swift movement, John was on his feet and striding toward the bed. He slipped in beside Elizabeth, grabbed a pillow, and made himself comfortable. Rodney looked up at them from his position on the floor. "I'll just put the two chairs together," he said awkwardly.

John popped up, propping himself on his elbow to look at Rodney's face. "Exactly who is it you don't trust in this situation, McKay?"

McKay got determinedly to his feet and marched to the bed. Snatching up a corner of the blanket, he climbed in with a bit of a huff.

"Good night, Dr. Weir. Good night, Dr. McKay," John said with self-satisfaction.

"Good night, Major. Good night, Rodney," Elizabeth added sleepily.

"Good night, Ma. Good night, Pa. Good night, John Boy," Rodney drawled sarcastically.

"Funny, McKay," John muttered.

* * *

John tugged hard on the blanket, but it didn't move an inch. Rodney had it in a death-grip, bunched up near his chin. Reaching over Elizabeth, John gave Rodney a hard shake. "McKay," he hissed. 

Rodney gave him a one-eyed, half-lidded glare. "What?"

"You're hogging all the blankets again."

Between them, Elizabeth yawned and gestured feebly. "There's another blanket in the chest of drawers on your side, Major."

John growled and rolled out of bed to retrieve it, grumbling under his breath. "Just figures. _I've_ got to get up, because _he _doesn't know how to share."

"Well, forgive me if this is the first time I've slept three-to-a-bed." Rodney grumbled back.

"So, it's not that you're a greedy blanket-hog," John sniped, as he found the blanket and crawled back into bed, "you just have no experience at sharing. That explains it."

"Oh, and I suppose this is commonplace for you," Rodney shot back.

"Yes," John and Elizabeth both answered.

The conversation stopped, and Elizabeth opened her eyes to find two men staring at her as though she'd revealed a former career as a stripper. "Sleepovers," she said defensively, "or climbing into my parent's bed when I was scared by a storm. You never did that?"

"Never," Rodney replied. "My parents were scarier than the storms."

Elizabeth looked to John. "Nope," he said with a grin, "now about those sleepovers…"

More awake now, Elizabeth turned on him. "So, you've done this before, Major?"

"This? Never," he replied in his 'scout's honor' tone of voice. Elizabeth clearly didn't buy it, and looked at him pointedly.

"But you said…" Rodney began.

"I said I'd slept three-to-a-bed," John said, falling back and pulling up his blanket to escape Elizabeth's stare. "Never under these circumstances."

"Under what circumstances did it happen, exactly?" Elizabeth asked, not willing to let it drop.

"Exactly?" he stalled.

"Exactly," Rodney and Elizabeth replied in unison.

"Circumstances involving a whole lotta beer and a whole lotta Led Zeppelin."

"Lead zeppelin?" Rodney echoed. "Is that some sort of reference to your…"

"It's a rock band," John cut in. "You've never heard of Led Zeppelin?"

"I never listened to popular music. I was studying to be a pianist."

John leaned up on his elbow to look at Rodney. "A pianist?" he said with amusement.

"Oh, mature, Major. I can't believe I'm going to get pianist jokes from a man who listens to a band called Led Zeppelin – possibly the most phallic image ever conjured by words."

"Boys," Elizabeth said chidingly. Rodney and John both dropped back on their pillows.

"You don't know what you're missing, McKay. I'll loan you a CD."

"Gee, thanks."

* * *

Twice in the night, Elizabeth's dreams jolted her awake. Twice, she was lulled back to sleep by the quiet breathing and inadvertent touch of the men who surrounded her. Now, with the warm morning sun streaming through the high windows, she woke slowly, pleasantly, to the same reassurances. 

At some point, Rodney had cocooned himself using the entire blanket, and Elizabeth had ended up sharing John's. Rodney was curled around her, like a large fluffy pillow at her back. John's legs had tangled with hers, and her hand had fallen against the bare skin at his waist where his t-shirt had ridden up. Elizabeth stayed perfectly still, eyes closed, simply enjoying the sensation of not waking up alone.

"Morning," John said softly, his voice just above a whisper. His hand covered hers before she had a moment to think that she should remove it. Elizabeth opened her eyes to find him watching her, with an expression she wasn't sure she was quite ready to define.

"Good morning, Major," she said primly.

"Elizabeth," he scolded, "for future reference, I think it's appropriate for you to call me John in bed." He stretched languidly, subtly sliding Elizabeth's palm further up his torso in the process. He only intended to tease her, but all the same, his chest was a safer location for her hand.

"Major," she began.

"Unh-uh," he corrected. Using their entwined legs for leverage, he inched her closer.

"John," she began again, then faltered.

"Don't say it," he whispered dramatically. "I know what's coming. You're throwing me off for McKay."

"You're teasing me," she concluded with a mixture of relief and chagrin.

John smirked, and she gave him a shove before retrieving her hand from his chest. He captured and held it. "Sort of," he conceded. "I didn't have any future plans, but I am available in case of nightmares, insomnia, cold nights, monsters under the bed…"

"Thank you," Elizabeth laughed, "I'll keep that in mind." More seriously, she added, "Thank you for staying, John."

"You're welcome, Elizabeth." John released her hand to look at his watch. "But McKay and I ought to get out of here before the whole base is up and wandering the corridors."

"I hate to wake him," Elizabeth wavered.

"He's awake," John said, reaching around her to tug on Rodney's blanket.

"Am not," came the muffled, groggy reply.

John reached around Elizabeth again and slid one leg over hers. With one sudden movement of John's hand and foot, McKay landed on the floor with a thud. "Hey!" Rodney protested, fighting his way out of the blanket and sitting up.

"Awake now, for sure," John said with a grin. He disentangled himself from Elizabeth, and moved to retrieve his jacket and shoes, tucking in his shirt as he walked. "C'mon, McKay. We've got a lot to do today – storm damage to deal with."

"You hurt my arm," Rodney whined. "I'm injured, you know."

"Let's go see if Dr. Beckett is in any shape to check it out yet."

"I have to get something to eat first," Rodney announced sullenly.

"Fine. Food, then doctor. Let's go." John helped Rodney to his feet, holding on to his good arm, then waited while he put on his shoes. "See you later, Dr. Weir."

"Bye, Elizabeth. Thanks for letting me stay," Rodney said quickly. Elizabeth smiled slightly and nodded in reply.

As she watched them go, Elizabeth pulled the blanket closer around her body, snuggling into the warm spot Rodney had occupied a minute before. There was a long day ahead, a lot of repairs to be made, but she decided it wouldn't hurt to take a few extra minutes for herself.

After all, she had Rodney and John to help deal with the damage.


End file.
